


Rattles and Beads

by ValeriusCatullus (ValeriaCatullia)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, hint of m/m only because we know them as m/m I guess, historical hijinks, same people different forms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValeriaCatullia/pseuds/ValeriusCatullus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley didn't know rattlesnakes weren't supposed to be there. Aziraphale is looking for a thing. A brief look into the long private history the both of them share - like an inside joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rattles and Beads

She had walked far from the village, far into the fields that were far from safe. Far from anywhere. But she wanted to get this particular plant anyway. The ceremony would not start until the moon had risen and the sun wasn't even at its peak now. There was time. There was still plenty of time. The air was dry and hot; the patches of dry mud and earth, cracked and lined by weeks of warm weather, burned at the touch. Her darkened skin shimmered with sweat and the water she had with her would run out soon, forcing her to alter her route slightly to make a stop at the river. It had been running low all year and the murkiness worried her from a professional point of view. Murky water caused illness. But no water caused death, so she drank.

From the corner of her eyes she could see something stir, something that had been following her for a while. She decided to sit still.

"This is too easy," a voice spoke up right next to her. "There's no challenge here. Are you doing this on purpose? I have my pride, you know."

She did not move, her hands still at her mouth, water leaking down her wrists and arms. Slowly she shifted her gaze sidewards, and when it fell on more empty riverbank she tilted her head down. Her eyes fell on a snake that sat up, head cocked to the side so it could stare with its pale yellow eyes into hers while it shook its head in what seemed almost disapproving. Making note of the knife she wore on her hip, she tensed her right arm and lowered her elbow. The snake rattled its tail.

"See, or rather, hear? I rattled all the way from over there-" it actually pointed with its tail, "to over here. You should have heard me coming - it took me _forever._ How am I supposed to boast about this kill?"

She said nothing. The snake was getting into it now.

"What am I supposed to do, huh? You come all the way out here all alone - I can only assume you have a deathwish," it continued. "But I have to say I am not all that keen to, you know, 'do my thing' if you insist on dishonouring this whole business by being needlessly banal."

"Says the snake who ventured into the killing fields," she finally spoke, as in one fluent motion she grabbed her knife and loomed over the snake's head with the tip. Her brown eyes shone with righteous smugness.

It was a stalemate that was resolved quickly by the fact that neither was in fact keen on doing 'their thing' and these _were_ the killing fields and they were _both_ prey. It would be awkward if both of them were eaten at the same time by the same creature.

The snake ended the stand-off first by settling down on the ground. The woman pocketed her knife in turn, grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She started following the river west to where she knew her herbs would grow.

"Hey," hissed the snake after her. "Hey! Wait!"

When she halted it slithered up to her as fast as it could and placed its head on her foot. It looked contemplative for a moment, for as far as a snake could manage the expression - it was not a becoming expression at all.

"So just for the sake of clarity here, what are we doing? I mean, I'm a snake, an actual proper snake. You know how long it took me to find your lousy village? Don't I at least strike fear in your heart or something?"

"A snake strikes me as appetizing," said the woman looking down past her hip at her foot. "But that is probably a force of habit by now. If you insist on crawling around blindly like that in these parts, you will get eaten eventually. Just a warning. Snake is very good no matter how you prepare it."

"You know, you're absolutely right," said the snake and quickly wrapped itself around her ankle.

"What's this now?" She lifted her leg and shook it. "That wasn't an invitation, I'm busy!"

"I'm protecting myself. Don't worry, I won't bite you. Call it a truce," the snake lisped as it wound itself upwards slowly, around and round, feeling the woman's pulse in the hollow of her knee, and the warmth of her body as he slipped under her skirt. She did not speak, not until there was no leg left to wind around and the movement stopped at the inside of her thigh.

"Enjoying your journey around the world?" Her teeth flashed white in a smirk when the snake's head popped out from the skirt.

"Just taking a breather, your legs are long, and very strong," replied the snake and pressed his head against her stomach, panting in what they both knew was exaggeration more than anything. "Yes, very nice. You have the full package, I see."

She shook her head. Her large earrings clicked against each other with the dull and sharp rattle of the wood and bones they were made off. Despite the intimate intrusion, she dropped her bag on the floor. A small cloud of dust spread where it landed.

"I'll have some rest then, shall I?" She said to nobody in particular.

"So, why are you gathering plants?" asked the snake at the same time.

She put her hands on her hips and angled them forward so she could look past her breasts at the reptile basking in her body heath.

"I am the village healer and the ritual for my successor starts with the new moon tonight," she said. "I am preparing myself and gathering ingredients. "

The snake tried the contemplative thing again.

"Healer, huh. You don't strike me as a healer, nor do you strike me as ill. Do you need a successor already?"

The woman pursed her lips.

"It's the law of the tribe, no woman should be without a man or child."

"So?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"I am infertile."

"Ah right, of course," said the snake. "I forgot, what with the journey around the world and everything being where it's supposed to be and all that..." It trailed off, but wriggled its tail a little.

The woman's eyes widened and she gave short breathy chuckle. "Careful now."

"Sorry, just making a point," hissed the snake and hooked around her waist, slithering over her spine and appearing on the other end, nudging her hand away to allow it to extract itself completely from her clothes. "You have all the right curves. I would think childless would not mean man-less. Are you not partnering up?"

"Hmpf," she replied, squatting down and grabbing one of the plants, tearing it out root and all to clean it with her knife. This shut the snake up for a moment. Possibly because he knew she'd had snake for dinner last night. Possibly because in this position he was trapped between her stomach, breasts and her necklaces made of teeth, some of which were around his size and some of them bigger, but most of them from snakes. Deciding this was not a good place to sit, he made his way up even further. She continued her cleaning, humming a song the snake knew she should not know, but for the rest did not acknowledge him and his effort to slide up between her breasts while working his way through her accessories.

"Do you sometimes get lonely?" It muttered after a while, when it was perched on her shoulder.

"What was that?"

"How old are you?" It said a bit louder and faster.

"Too old to not be wedded," she said. "If that is what you mean."

The snake liked it on top of her shoulders. Yet for a fleeting moment it considered taking advantage and biting down to let the warm blood rush out so it could go back and report an astounding victory. There was a fine thought. But a truce was a truce and to be honest, they'd had more truces than non-truces as of late.

"What will you do after the ceremony?" It asked instead.

"I think I might go up to that one new village, I think the name is Urr. It looks promising."

"Are you sure you do not just want to die?" It continued now that it felt less homicidal and more businesslike. "I could just bite you; I promise it won't hurt much."

"I have no qualms making you into a trophy, dinner and a new necklace," she said and pointed her knife between his eyes. "Perhaps a new earring. It would make for a good testimony."

"Quite," the snake said and settled down. "Yes, to Urr then. You do realize that like this, the nice curves and the nice soft bits and all, you won't last a day over there?"

She frowned at the snake.

"Why are you here?"

"Just exploring," said the snake. "I want to try everything once, I suppose."

"I could feel that."

"Hmm," replied the snake cheekily and leered, for as far a snake could leer without looking silly.

"Just exploring," she repeated slowly. "You realise that looking like that, all appetizing and shiny, you won't last a day around here."

"Hmm," said the snake again.

While it dozed off, she continued her methodical gathering of the various ingredients she thought she would need tonight. The sun shone over their heads, making the cracked grey wasteland appear wet in the distance and the air tremble thickly around them. Still, she worked until the light started to fade and the snake pointed out she only had moments before she had to return home.

"Do you want to return to the village with me?" She asked after a moment's hesitation. "I could hide you for a bit. Though I am sure they wouldn't eat a talking snake, they might revere you. I'd enjoy the company."

"I don't want to become someone's earring just yet," it replied solemnly. "Can't you stay here and we can… maybe talk a bit? Must the ceremony be tonight?"

She smiled again, this time it wasn't a full smile. The snake looked like it might have reciprocated if it could.

"I do get lonely sometimes, you know. But I have a responsibility. To the tribe, I mean."

"I know what you mean," the snake sighed.

"Do you want me to leave you here? In this tree perhaps?"

"I suppose. No, that one! With the red flowers. I prefer the red flowers." The snake turned back to her. "Will I see you again?"

"You will," she promised, gently grabbing the snake from her neck and lowering it on one of the branches. "If not in this life, then in the next."

"I _meant_ in this life," said the snake disdainfully. "Why don't you just marry someone from a neighbouring village? I don't see why you go through all this trouble."

"Nobody wants a woman who can't have children." She frowned. "Or who's unwilling to try as far as they know. At any rate, I must go, they will be waiting for me when the moon rises. It was nice meeting you, I- thank you for finding me."

"Hmpf," the snake said.

"I'll be fine."

"I wasn't worried."

She turned around. "Nevertheless, I will be fine."

"Liar," the snake mumbled at the retreating figure, swaying her hips as she dodged the harmful vegetation left and right.

The next day, when she was sitting outside her hut supervising the young children, the hunters returned from their day with not just loot, but a man in their company as well. The tattoos on his arm indicating he was from a tribe far away, a tribe unknown to them, but his words were flowing from his lips without accent. The man introduced himself as a ranger, separated a long time ago, wandering around, finding only remnants of his people and fearing he was the last one left. He could be useful, he could scout for them, he could help them.

She frowned deeply when nobody was alarmed by his presence and accepted him. This was not the way things should be.

She frowned even more when he slid up to her that night and asked her to be his wife.

~~

"What's that, old boy?" said Aziraphale from his spot on the sofa, making no effort to lower his book, get up or in any way stop Crowley from smashing up whatever he was smashing in the back.

"I said-" Crowley shouted back after a string of inappropriate blessings that would make an imp blush. "I cannot believe you kept this!"

"Kept what, then?"

The sound of footsteps approaching continued far longer than the backroom of anything in the W1 area could, or should by all accounts of logic and physics, be. Finally, Crowley popped his head - complete with cobwebs - around the corner of the door and held out an old ratty necklace.

"This," he said. "I cannot believe you kept this."

Aziraphale finally looked up.

"Oh my, that is old indeed, where did you find it?"

"I'm still looking for that-" Crowley waved his hand in the air, "-thing you want, I went to the left corner."

"No, left is Africa. _Before_ the brimstone," said Aziraphale and took a sip from his tea.

Crowley shook the snake's rattle on the edge of the leather string and closed his eyes.

"I can still see your face when I presented this as your dowry. That was one costly wedding. Good times, hah."

Aziraphale smiled. "Yes, I remember thinking, what is a rattlesnake doing on this continent?"

Crowley shrugged. "Exploring."

"I'm just being a tease," Aziraphale admitted. "It was a satisfactory arrangement all around."

A slow smile spread across Crowley's face.

"Hey, that reminds me of that time I offered 200 white camels for you to that caliph. Do you still have that little number you wore back then, the one with the jewels and the beads?"

"It must be in the back, if I still have it," replied Aziraphale absently, turning his attention back to his book. "He was a queer fellow, in every sense of the word."

"It's called 'playing both fields' nowadays. I suppose it's a metaphor."

A corner of Aziraphale's lips turned up. "It's one of ours. Now be a dear and try to find that-" he circled his hand in the air, "-thing, first, would you?"

"Yes, yes," Crowley replied, before he once again dove into the abyss of the angel's backroom storage.

.

FIN


End file.
